


Only Fools Fall

by Razzledazzy



Category: Wooden Overcoats
Genre: April Fools' Day, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Rudyard is hopeless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 15:14:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14167677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Razzledazzy/pseuds/Razzledazzy
Summary: Rudyard's been planning his revenge since Christmas, of course it doesn't go to plan. Nothing ever goes the way it should when Eric Chapman is involved.





	Only Fools Fall

It was finally time. After months of waiting for revenge, the moment had finally arrived. The clock in the corner ticked over to mark seven in the morning, April 1st.

Let’s see how Chapman faired with all of this holiday tomfoolery now that it was _his_ turn. Oh he would get what was coming to him, one-hundred percent.

He’d only been planning this since Christmas.

Everything was already in place, he’d obsessed over all the small details. He had the roses, the right outfit, an unbeatable plan.

“Antigone, close up shop! I’ve errands to run today,” Rudyard chirped, halfway out the door.

“We haven’t even opened yet!” Antigone’s disparaging remark was cut off before it reached him.

It was a bright day in Piffling Vale, the heat of incoming summer burning away the seeping wet of winter. It succeeded in driving back foul moods as well as weather. Rudyard found it all rather acceptable, even going so far as to _whistle_ as he crossed the square to Chapman’s funeral home, much to the horror of everyone in his path.

He had the roses hidden behind his back, not very well, but well enough.

Without bothering to knock, Rudyard flung open the door.

“Chapman!”

The call echoed around the room, bouncing back to Rudyard as he tapped the heel of his boot into the ground, waiting for any sort of response.

Eric ducked out of a back room, wringing his hands together. He looked oddly disheveled. His hair was lacking its perfect quaff... and his suit was swapped out for what looked like pyjamas. It was almost as if he was surprised to be bothered at seven in the morning.

“Rudyard, to what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked, as bright and annoying as the actual sun. Rudyard was briefly forced to re-evaluate his earlier high opinion of the sun.

This was it. Now or never.

Rudyard cleared his throat, “I am here to take you on a date.”

Chapman didn’t respond for a moment, opening and closing his mouth somewhat like a fish.

Heat rose from under his collar, and Rudyard suddenly wondered if perhaps this hadn’t been as good of an idea as he’d thought it was.

“Come again?” Chapman finally answered, leaning over the reception desk.

“Honestly, Chapman. I don’t know how I could make my intentions any clearer,” Rudyard all but scoffed, holding the roses out in front of him like a shield.

“ _You_ ... want to take _me_ ... on a _date_?” Chapman repeated slowly, his grip on the desk white knuckled as he leaned forward just the tiniest bit. Like he was trying to hold himself back from moving forward.

“Am I going to have to keep asking? Or are you going to tell me yes or no? Either way, the flowers are yours.”

Chapman cleared his throat, looking from Rudyard to the flowers and back again. With slow, steady hands, Chapman reached out to tenderly grab the flowers from Rudyard’s hands.

“I mean yes, but it’s seven in the morning Rudyard,” Eric asked, looking confused.

“Yes and?”

“And I haven’t even gotten dressed yet,” Chapman gestured to his outfit, which was a plain white cotton t shirt and some plaid shorts.

“Oh, right. Very well,” he looked askance, feeling the heat under his collar creep across his neck and brush his cheeks. Maybe asking in the morning was rather odd of him. He’d have to be more careful if he wanted to pull this off.

“I’ll go get dressed, and then we can go get coffee?” Eric stammered, and _oh_ if Rudyard wasn’t relishing this. A chance to finally catch Chapman on the wrong foot.

“That sounds lovely, I’ll wait.” Rudyard mused, waving Chapman off. It made an odd picture, Champan in his pants walking away with a bouquet of roses.

Come to think of it, why did Chapman answer the door when he wasn’t wearing any trousers? A mystery for another time, perhaps.

Or perhaps one for right now, because for some reason he couldn’t get the image of Chapman walking away out of his mind. As if it wasn’t enough to be wildly attractive, face-wise. He also had to have a great ass, because _of course_ he did.

“Stick to the plan, Rudyard,” he chastised himself, rubbing at his face.

“Did you say something?” Chapman asked returning to the room, thankfully clothed. 

“No, nothing. Are you ready? I actually have a few ideas. Coffee isn’t the date, but it would be a nice start?” Rudyard ventured, suddenly nervous. The jittery mood was infectious, and he couldn't stop from second guessing himself.

“By all means,” Chapman gestured in front of him with his arm.

“Of course.”

On the walk over to the cafe, Rudyard faced a problem he had never encountered before. He had no idea what to do with his hands. The distance was short, but their hands kept brushing against each other as they walked.

Heat crept up the back of his collar.

The cafe was quiet, one of the former hooligans was behind the counter. The took one look at the pair of morticians and clapped their hands together, immediately going for their phone.

News was certainly going to travel fast, and Rudyard didn’t know whether the emotion in his stomach was smug-ness or anxiety.

“Isn’t it a bit weird to start a date at your own establishment?” Rudyard asked, finally hooking his fingers into Chapman’s pulling him along into a booth.

“Is there another coffee shop on this island that you know of?” Chapman teased. The familiar tone lacked the spark of ire that it normally brought bubbling to the surface of Rudyard’s psyche.

It was… dare he say, almost nice.

“Besides, they know exactly how I like my coffee here.”

The comment startled a laugh out of Rudyard, which in turn sent Chapman slightly red in the face. He smiled and turned away as if getting Rudyard to smile had been his goal all along.

 

* * *

 

The day was spent going to a variety of places around the island, most of them out of the public eye. Truthfully, Piffling Vale wasn’t exactly known for its romantic hot spots (given that there weren’t any), but Rudyard had planned for that. All he had to do was keep Chapman talking and take him to various places, easy as pie.

A picnic lunch in a meadow just outside of town that with the sound of the sea crashing against the cliffs for music, out of sight from any seagulls and all noisy townspeople. It had taken until noon for them to hike up to this perfect spot.

Every so often Rudyard would ask Chapman his opinion of something and Eric would chatter on about that for about twenty minutes so long as Rudyard would ‘hmmm’ or ‘oh?’ in all the right places.

It proved to be a surprise learning opportunity, apparently Eric liked to practice some hobbyist horticulture in his spare time. He kept mentioning different aspects of local plants. It was as distracting as it was endearing.

 _Focus,_ Rudyard chastised himself.

He had to make it to dinner, then he could finally reveal to everyone what a fool Eric Chapman was. Then they would all see that his perfection was a complete farce. They’d see the man for what he was, a somewhat annoying and affably frustrating rival instead the good Christ’s second coming.

They would see.

“This has all been very nice.”

“Yes, nice, of course. It’s something I’ve been planning for a while,” _a while indeed_.

“Oh? Well…” Chapman trailed off, rubbing at the back of his golden head.

Focus, focus.

“I’ve got plans for dinner, if you wanted to stick around,” Rudyard asked. He had to reign in his emotions not let anything get in the way of the plan. Especially when he was this close.

Chapman seemed to beam at the very question. “Yeah, ‘course. I mean, I’ve got to say that this hasn’t been what I expected. In truth- I thought you might be making fun of me. I haven’t ever really been _good_ with relationships.”

That settled over Rudyard like a heavy, wet blanket. What was he doing here, really? Sure they had this rivalry, and Chapman was sort of driving them out of business, but this? This wasn’t fair by any means. With no small amount of horror, Rudyard realized he’d done the exact same thing to Chapman that Jerry had done to him.

He opened his mouth to respond, and closed it. There wasn’t anything he could do to explain himself. Chapman didn’t even know. He couldn’t know.

“Right, well, I’m sure you’ve heard that I’m not the most romantic person on the island either.” Rudyard gave a half shrug. The nerves from earlier were back in full force and the palms of his hands started to tingle. This was easier when it had all been part of a plan.

What was his plan now?

He rubbed his hands on his trousers. They could finish the date and go their separate ways, but news would have reached all over the island by now. What was he supposed to do? Make a heel-turn and say it wasn’t working out? ‘Thanks for your time but I think we’re going in two different directions even though the date was fun.’

God, Georgie was never going to let him forget this, once she’d heard.

Chapman cleared his throat.

“You said something about dinner?”

 

* * *

 

Halfway up the stairs to the lighthouse, Rudyard had a realization.

He’d been planning this since Christmas, yes, but not the revenge part. In fact, the longer he thought, the more he realized that he never had a concrete plan for revenge to begin with.

This was a date.

They’d spent the entire day together.

It had been, dare he say it, a good time.

He was freaking out.

They got to the top of the lighthouse, Ruydard slightly out of breath at the sight of Chapman leaning against the rail and looking out over the ocean; or from the stairs, it was mostly the stairs, but Eric in the fading light of sunset was just as breathtaking.

“Chapman-”

“Really, Rudyard, we’re on a date the least you could do is call me Eric.”

“Eric,” the word seemed to stick in his throat, “this has gone, uh, much better than I’d ever planned.” True, as a technicality, because his original plan for this date had been for it to end in flames, disaster, and ruin.

“It has been nice.”

“I was wondering if you’d like to make it more than a one time thing.”

“Are you trying to ask me out on another date before our first date’s ended?”

Rudyard looked askance, “It- uh, pays to be prepared?”

“Yes, Rudyard, I’d love to go on a second date with you. If this date doesn’t count as the first three.” His tone was full of fondness, and for the first time Rudyard wondered how much of Eric’s popularity was due to his genuine desire to connect with people who only seemed to want what was happening at the surface.

The surface wasn’t what he saw here. Up in this lighthouse, Eric seemed lonely and a little vulnerable.

This was untenable.

“Look, Eric, I’ve got to tell you before this goes any further-”

“You only asked me out because it was April Fools, I know. What I don’t know is if you did it to get one over on me or if you wanted an exit strategy in case I said no. Judging by the way you asked, I don’t think you would have taken no for an answer,” Eric’s voice never wavered. No emotion was betrayed by his words.

They didn’t need to be emotional words, Rudyard already felt terrible.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Rudyard managed.

“Well, that’s obvious.”

“I mean, I don’t know why- I know what I thought I was doing, which was pretty terrible- and not something that I actually want to be doing-” Chapman’s eyebrows rose with every word he said, “- hold on, let me try again.”

Rudyard pushed his hair back out of his eyes, and then he blurted out what was exactly on his mind. “I’ve been thinking about this since Christmas, how I would ask, what you would say, what we would do. I saved up for the picnic. I thought- well, it doesn’t really matter what justifications I used to convince myself. The reality is, you’ve consumed my every waking thought since you stepped on this ruddy island and I’m just now realizing that the reason for that might be, you know, something other than envy.”

During his speech, Eric had moved closer. Their faces a hare’s breath away from each other.

He breathed out, his hand coming up to rest on Rudyard’s neck. “You’re an idiot.”

And kissed him.

Rudyard’s ears went funny, the noise of the ocean drowning out everything except the rush of blood in his ears, rapid with his own pulse.

He pressed closer, desperate to prolong the contact. It set his blood on fire. He wanted to pull Eric down and never let him up. The strength of this new desire made him dizzy, one hand falling to the lighthouse’s railing to keep from stumbling.

Rudyard pulled back before he could pass out, looking into Erics’s blue eyes. “How about a fool?”

“Foolish, maybe,” Eric teased.

“Only for you,” Rudyard blurted out before he could stop himself.

Eric’s laugh was worth it though.

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this fic on April 1st of last year, and then forgot about it for a decent amount of time. Went back and finished it in February as part of my New Year's resolution and thought I might as well wait for the first to post it. 
> 
> Join us at the wooden overcoats discord, [we're great at talking.](https://discord.gg/a7kzYYK)
> 
> Check out my profile for links you can find me at.


End file.
